


shhhhh, kitten

by glittercherry



Category: GOT7
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Domestic, BDSM, Begging, Blow Jobs, Choking, Collars, Dom/sub, Dominant Kim Yugyeom, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Breathplay, Mild Painplay, Orgasm Control, Petplay, Submissive Park Jinyoung (GOT7), Subspace, Teasing, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercherry/pseuds/glittercherry
Summary: “I asked,” Yugyeom repeated, sweet and bright, “is it okay?”Ah, but there was danger under that sweetness. There was fire, and a taste of iron. Jinyoung forced himself to swallow through the rush of lightheadedness that hit him.“I like it.”His voice was already raspy with desire. Yugyeom’s eyes narrowed, delighted. “Get naked, then?”
Relationships: Kim Yugyeom/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	shhhhh, kitten

Jinyoung was elbow-deep in his lecture notes when the doorbell rang. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with the sound, stressed as he was by the looming certainty of just how catastrophically his next final was going to go, but he pushed his chair back and wobbled toward the door anyways, distantly running a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to make himself look presentable. 

“I’ll get it!”

Jinyoung turned around with a start, only for Yugyeom to fully walk on him in his haste to outrun him to the door. 

“Don’t worry, go back to study! I’ll get it,” the kid repeated, already walking past him. He sounded more jittery than usual, to the point where Jinyoung wondered if he had been drinking Red Bull before lunch again. 

He shrugged and decided to go with it, whatever _it_ was. “Let me know if it’s a gift for me!” he called. “Or a dildo. Or a dildo for me.”

“You’re the fucking worst.”

Jinyoung laughed to himself. Two years living together, two years long enough to go from “it would be financially beneficial for both of us to share rent” to “we live together and fuck sometimes, it’s cool” and he still hadn’t figured Yugyeom out fully. Maybe he never would. 

Dildo or not, Yugyeom walked past his door suspiciously silently afterwards. By the time Jinyoung emerged from his notes to grab something for lunch–a grilled cheese sandwich, he wasn’t making anything gourmet with the time he had–he had practically forgotten about whatever that doorbell had brought. 

He crossed another day off the monthly calendar that hung on the wall next to him like a curse as he wolfed down the sandwiches. December was passing by faster than expected, he wondered idly. 

Yugyeom came to his room with hungry lips and hungrier hands that night. Somehow he always managed to be exactly what Jinyoung needed to close on a less than satisfying day, what he craved wordlessly and received gratefully.

“So, was it a dildo?”

They laid in a shapeless pile of limbs, still sweaty and spent, but Jinyoung couldn’t resist the need to prod him a bit.

Yugyeom swatted him on the arm, no force behind the hit. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously!” Jinyoung laughed, curiosity growing in him. “I mean, it could’ve been a pizza delivery for all I know. _Did you order a pizza without telling me?”_

Yugyeom cackled at that. “Okay, fine! It was a pizza! Satisfied?”

“Not at all, because now I _know_ you’re hiding something.” Jinyoung struggled to prop himself up on an elbow and looked at Yugyeom properly. He was _blushing._

“You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not!” squeaked Yugyeom, his hands flying upwards to cover his face. Ten minutes ago those same hands had been buried in Jinyoung’s hair as he thrusted deep into him, but now he was getting shy. Unbelievable. 

Jinyoung reached for his wrists and tried to pry them away. Yugyeom whined at that. “Stoooop, I’m not telling you shit!”

“I could tickle you.”

Yugyeom’s whole body jumped at that. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t? I _wouldn’t dare?”_

Jinyoung’s hands hovered close to Yugyeom’s exposed skin. He was so pretty, he thought, still rosy and flushed, the soft skin that marked so easily blossoming into red. 

Yugyeom was staring at him now, ready to bolt. Every muscle in his body tensed as Jinyoung raised an eyebrow and enjoyed having him at his mercy. A breath passed. 

“Okay, fine, okay!” he squeaked. 

Jinyoung snorted. “You’re so easy, what the hell.”

“Oh, fuck off. Christmas! You’ll find out by Christmas!”

He looked so cute, all shy and defeated like that. Jinyoung smiled. “Aw, did you get me a dildo?”

“What’s up with you and the fucking dildo?”

Jinyoung flopped down, his mission successfully accomplished, ready to burrow his way closer to Yugyeom’s warmth. “I’ll be waiting, then.”

Yugyeom huffed, but he still wrapped his arm around him to keep him close. “You’re the fucking worst.”

* * *

Christmas morning took a lifetime to arrive, and it also managed to crash onto Jinyoung before he had time to get ready for it. He couldn’t deny that he had been more than curious about the mysterious gift, poking Yugyeom for more clues to no avail and resisting the temptation to snoop around the apartment while he was gone with a strength that he definitely deserved praise for. 

And yet, because time doesn’t bend to anyone’s desires, the fateful morning arrived. Jinyoung dragged himself to the kitchen at some point of the morning, shivering against the cold air and practically knocking into Yugyeom as he reached for some coffee. 

“Merry Christmas!” he said. 

Jinyoung reciprocated with a mumble. He’d received a coffee mug with _Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee_ printed on it a couple of years before, and he stood by it no matter how corny it sounded. 

“D’you wanna see your gift?”

Okay, _that_ woke him up faster than any espresso could’ve managed. Yugyeom grinned at him, laughing at the eager look on his face. “You’re so cute sometimes.”

“Just sometimes? I’m wounded,” Jinyoung replied laconically. His socked feet brushed against Yugyeom’s calves under the table, and he received a gentle kick in response. 

Yugyeom nodded. “Yes, because there are other times when you’re insufferable,” he added, forcing himself to stay serious. 

“The joyous spirit of the holidays,” Jinyoung deadpanned.

The chair creaked as Yugyeom pushed it back and stood up, unable to contain his giggling anymore. “Wash your face and come get your gift, you gremlin.”

Jinyoung scoffed, but the childish excitement born from receiving a gift still washed over him. He followed Yugyeom’s steps to his bedroom, totally pushing the face washing part for later–he could feel the stubble prickling on his chin, but that would have to wait.

“Sit on the bed, come on.” Yugyeom’s voice was hushed as he rifled through his closet, sounding almost shy. 

Jinyoung obliged, now deathly curious. He couldn’t deny having spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering what Yugyeom could’ve come up with, but he was still ready to be completely surprised by the guy’s imagination. His hands suddenly seemed to occupy too much space and he linked his fingers on his lap as coyly as he could. 

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh? Why the hell–”

“Just… listen to me? For _once?_ ”

Jinyoung huffed a laugh, entertained by the whine that sneaked its way to Yugyeom’s words. “Fine, you big baby.”

Darkness only made him more aware of everything around him, to the point that he could hear Yugyeom’s socks padding on the floorboards and his slightly rushed breathing when he got closer. 

Warm fingers closed over his hands and pried them apart. Jinyoung went with it easily, fascinated by how much he could feel through such a brief touch. 

Yugyeom didn’t say anything, but when Jinyoung felt the weight of something that was tough and almost leathery to the touch being placed on his palms, he couldn’t help opening his eyes. 

Words escaped from him like a fleeting dream with the morning light. He could only stare, and stare, and stare, because Yugyeom had given him a _collar,_ and it was black and dull to the touch, and a thousand images ran through his mind in a second and he exhaled heavily enough to feel the air on his hands. 

On his hands that were holding the collar, the fucking _collar,_ and Yugyeom had given it to him, and–

“Is it okay?” 

Yugyeom’s voice came from above, from where he had been watching him. He was smiling just slightly, almost like a smirk, his eyes zeroing on him deliberately even if he had sounded just a bit apprehensive when he’d asked. 

Jinyoung’s heart was running out of control, too fast for him to process it. “I’m–”

Yugyeom reached forward and placed a single finger under his chin, applying the minimum pressure needed to make him look up. He was blushing, as he always did when they played like this, but the tip of his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth and the hunger in his eyes made Jinyoung freeze in place instead of teasing him about it like he would’ve done otherwise. 

The single point of contact between them was an electric zap digging under his skin, forcing him to look up, up, to keep the eye contact no matter how embarrassing it was. He wondered if Yugyeom could feel the stubble scratching under his fingertips, but the thought didn’t embarrass him as it might’ve once done–he knew him too well to think he wouldn’t be into _that_ as well. 

“I asked,” Yugyeom repeated, sweet and bright, “is it okay?”

Ah, but there was danger under that sweetness. There was fire, and a taste of iron. Jinyoung forced himself to swallow through the rush of lightheadedness that hit him.

“I like it.”

His voice was already raspy with desire. Yugyeom’s eyes narrowed, delighted. “Get naked, then?”

“Sexy,” huffed Jinyoung, trying desperately to get a last barb in before he went fully under. Yugyeom snickered and took the collar from him. “Go on.” 

The idea of Yugyeom listening to his half-incoherent babbling about wanting a collar, searching for the best model online and giving it to him as a present made Jinyoung’s skin break into goosebumps of heat. The air surrounding him felt heavier than usual, more intense, and he was aware of every movement he made as he took his sleeping clothes off. 

“Stay there,” said Yugyeom. His eyes were blown with arousal, sliding up and down and all over him as if he didn’t know where to look first, appraising Jinyoung and drinking him in like an especially exquisite liquor. 

Jinyoung placed his hands on his thighs and looked down. Waiting. He sat on the edge of the bed, stuck between the cold of the air on his skin and the heat that spread in his core, and he tried to remember how to breathe. 

Yugyeom moved until he was behind him, probably kneeling on the bed, and his first touch made Jinyoung jump. It was a whisper of fingers on his neck, testing the waters, promising more. 

The fingers moved to the front, pressing just slightly over his pulse. Jinyoung held his breath, but he couldn’t stop his heart from beating wildly against his ribs. He could feel it in his cock as it hardened more and more, and the thought that Yugyeom could feel it under his touch made him close his eyes with a shudder. 

Yugyeom’s voice came as a soft whisper. “Ready?”

Jinyoung hummed. His fingers dug more deeply into his thighs, desperately looking for anchorage. “Yeah.”

He didn’t beg, not yet. That would come later.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sensation of the collar wrapping around his throat. It was heavy, immediately pressing down, the leather still cold where it touched him, and it left him breathless right away. 

Yugyeom buckled it down deftly, brushing away loose strands of hair. Jinyoung felt him as if coming from far away. 

“Is that good?”

Jinyoung took a deep breath, long, almost torturous. The collar rested right over his Adam’s apple, and it made him feel... held. _Owned._ Every heartbeat pressing against it, every breath reminding him that it was there. 

“It’s–it’s good,” he managed to say. 

Yugyeom slipped a finger between the heated skin of his nape and the buckle and tugged, just slightly. It was enough for Jinyoung to gasp, for a bright shock of arousal to travel directly to his dick. His other hand weaved into his hair and forced him to look up. 

“You look so fucking hot,” he said after a moment. He pulled and pushed until Jinyoung’s neck was straining, until their lips were meeting in a messy kiss. 

Jinyoung couldn’t help the whine that escaped his throat, not when his hands were aching to touch himself and find some release, not when Yugyeom was biting on his lower lip and keeping him close by the grip in his hair. A haze of arousal surrounded him, to the point where he wasn’t sure where his body finished and Yugyeom’s began. 

“I want to fuck your mouth.”

“ _Fuck.”_

He pushed himself back, letting go of Jinyoung all at once and leaving him suddenly empty. There was a moment when all he did was stare at him, as if he was taking everything in. Jinyoung tried his best not to fidget under his gaze. He was painfully aware of how hard he was, and he didn’t try to hide it anymore as he turned around until he was facing him. 

Yugyeom had a way of acting shy and confident all at once that always gave him whiplash. He rested against the headboard and spread his legs, looking down at him and daring him to come closer. 

“Well, then?” 

Jinyoung wondered if he looked as flustered as he felt. He crawled forward, heat bursting under his skin, barely suppressing a whimper when he felt his cock hanging heavily between his legs. The thickness of the collar was _constant,_ a presence that never relented. 

Getting Yugyeom’s cock out of his sweats was simple enough. Jinyoung could feel himself trembling just slightly, already overwhelmed by the weight and the heat of him in his hand, and his mouth began to water in anticipation. 

Yugyeom hissed a breath in through his teeth. “Getting shy all of a sudden?”

If this was any other day, Jinyoung would’ve probably replied with an easy “fuck you,” but he was too woozy to get the words out. It was the pressure around his throat pushing his words down, making his vision glaze over until all he saw was Yugyeom’s cock straining to full hardness. He breathed in, still not moving his hand, just holding him.

Long fingers sneaked through his hair again, pulling sharply. “Behave.”

“I’m–”

The grip grew tighter. “Not even a collar can make you act better, then? Disappointing.”

It was too much and it was all happening at once. Jinyoung swallowed some of the spit accumulating on his tongue and the small motion made the leather press down more heavily, ripping a first tiny moan from him. He found himself leaning down, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue coyly, a bright pulse of pain traveling all the way from his scalp to his cock. 

Any restraints he had left flew off the window when he closed his lips around the head. Yugyeom groaned, and the first taste of precum landed on Jinyoung’s tongue. 

“Fuck, that’s– _fuck.”_

He was as loud as always, shameless and open as he moaned. Jinyoung pushed himself down further. The grip in his scalp and the awareness of his collared neck were the last things connecting him to sanity–and the pain was what was shoving him further down. 

He sank, and he sank, and he sank. Yugyeom was big enough for his jaw to strain as soon as he’d gotten as far as his own self-preservation instinct let him, until he was gently pressing against his throat. 

He stayed there as long as he dared, his ears filling up with the roar of his own heartbeat. From far away, through a wall of fog, he could hear Yugyeom’s half-broken moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so– _fuck_ , I wanna fuck your throat, wanna–”

Jinyoung eased off. He was still too full to think, but the first intake of breath through his nose was pure bliss. He felt his own cock throbbing with need, almost painfully, made only worse by how he hadn’t touched himself at all. 

The grasp in his hair became more intense. Yugyeom was using both hands now, still not pressing down, still just holding him in place. Jinyoung pushed down anyways, strangely aware of the first trickles of spit that escaped his lips and reached his hands. 

“Got you collared now,” Yugyeom hissed. Jinyoung was all the way down, and he could still wrap his hands around what he couldn’t reach. “Collared and pretty, such a pretty– _fuck_ –such a pretty pet.”

The gag reflex came out of nowhere, a flash of heat that made Jinyoung’s vision go white. He pulled off until only the head of his cock was in, as he struggled to reign it down and fucking _breathe_. 

“Ohh, you liked that?” Anyone would’ve thought that Yugyeom’s voice sounded completely innocent, curious even, but Jinyoung knew better. He heard the smugness dripping off him, and he was almost embarrassed by how it made his cock throb harder. 

“You like to be called my pet?” he continued, not giving him any room to answer. He was pressing down now, steady and strong. Jinyoung didn’t try to fight him–his neck had gone slack under the pressure. “But, of course, why else would you want a collar so bad?”

Jinyoung felt his mouth filling up, and those strong hands pushing him until his airflow got cut off again, and he couldn’t even try to struggle. It was intoxicating, being at the same time sharply aware of every detail and every ridge of his cock and floating in a honey-thick depth of his own making, trapping him in place. 

And then Yugyeom thrust up, and moaned high in his throat when Jinyoung’s throat closed around his cock, and whined, “just like that, fuck, such a well trained pet for me.”

Jinyoung’s hands were trembling, still wrapped around his length. He gave in. Yugyeom wasn’t exactly gentle, his big hands pushing down and thrusting up to meet him, and each thrust was a tiny explosion of light behind his eyes. 

It was _blissful._

“So good for me,” was gasping Yugyeom. “So well trained, so eager, so– _fuck.”_

They were being noisy, Jinyoung thought distantly. It was a lot of spit and choked off gasps and the wet, slick gurgling every time Yugyeom fucked deeper into his throat, desperate and fast. He did his best to stay open and slack, to be just a good hole to be fucked. 

“Fucking–that’s right, kitten, that’s right, just like _tha–t_.” Yugyeom’s voice got lost in a moan, his airy whining fueling Jinyoung like fire in his chest. 

He didn’t know how he’d gotten into his brain and retrieved his most shamefully hidden secrets, but hearing the word _kitten_ coming from his parted lips almost made him black out. It wormed directly between his ribs, moving lower toward his stomach, until it settled heavily in the painful strain of his cock. _Kitten._

“Good pet, good kitten, _shit…”_

Jinyoung prided himself on giving amazing head. It was just another one of his qualities, just like his talent to get under Yugyeom’s skin and his music taste–he sucked dick like a pro. He could tell when his partner was close to release, and he could take control of the blowjob in no time, turning them into putty under his mouth. 

He was not in control of the situation this time. Hell, he wasn’t in control of _himself_ anymore, shaking with every curse and praise that fell from Yugyeom’s lips and trying to breathe through the aborted choking spasms of his throat. His body was floating, stuck with Yugyeom all around him and inside him and covering completely, and the collar was still _there_ and its weight sent an extra shock of arousal through him. 

He wondered if Yugyeom could think about him at that moment beyond chasing his own release. The idea of being just a trained pet for him to fuck, claimed and marked by that collar, untouched himself but still giving pleasure–it sprung into his mind and latched onto it, and it was intense enough that Jinyoung felt his stomach drop. 

Above him, somewhere in a different plane of existence, Yugyeom gasped sharply. “I’m–I’m gonna–” 

His fingers tightened until Jinyoung was sure he would rip out some strands, keeping him in place as he came down his throat. 

Jinyoung spluttered and choked, he couldn’t help it. He swallowed the best he could, his throat closing around the intrusion of Yugyeom’s cock, and he closed his eyes tightly enough to see stars. 

For a long moment he dangled over nothing–nothing could exist beyond the weight of Yugyeom’s cock pressing unrelentingly in his throat and pushing down far enough that Jinyoung could almost imagine it bulging out against the leather of his collar. 

And then, with a long, high-pitched whine, he allowed him to ease off. 

Air rushed in painfully as Jinyoung coughed and gasped. There were leftovers of come still on his tongue, as he hadn’t been fast to swallow it all, and every heartbeat felt like it was pressing against his skin from the inside, struggling to be let out. He swallowed once again and the fire he felt in his throat in response made him wince momentarily. 

“Yugyeom.”

The sudden silence in the room didn’t last long. Yugyeom had allowed his head to rest against the headboard, and the little shit was _smiling._ “Hm?”

Jinyoung’s voice felt like rubbing sandpaper against cement, but he coughed one more time and pressed on. “You’re the fucking worst, how did you–”

Yugyeom looked down, and the spark in his eyes and the confidence in his smile made him gulp. 

“You talk a lot when I’m fucking you, you know?”

Whenever Jinyoung was embarrassed, his ears felt hot first; it was like all the shame concentrated on the tips. They were on fire, now. 

“Did you like your present?” Yugyeom continued. He was winded up, still coming down from his orgasm, but there was only pleased satisfaction in his voice. He looked down and lifted one eyebrow. “Ooh, it looks like you did!”

Jinyoung surged forward until he was crowding him against the headboard. “Shut up.” Yugyeom was all heat, taunting him to keep going. “Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you.”

“That’s– _oh–_ that’s nice.”

Talking still felt awkward, and a torrent of adrenaline pulsed steadily through Jinyoung’s veins. “It better be fucking nice,” he hissed. He ached to touch, to turn Yugyeom around and finally get some relief, the warmth and the contact he deserved, _finally–_

The air felt thick enough for Yugyeom’s words to reach him late, sluggishly, but even if he spoke softly his words could not be misunderstood. 

“I’m thinking something different, actually.” He _had_ to be faking the coyness in his voice. 

Jinyoung tried to speak and failed. His cock felt like fire, pulsing heavily with each breath he struggled to take. God, he wouldn’t dare, would he?

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

How did Yugyeom always look so sweet, even when he tortured him like this, Jinyoung would never know. He grinned up at him, and lifted a single finger to place it against his feverishly hot chest. 

“I think pets need to be trained, actually,” he added. 

A single, white-hot flash of need overtook Jinyoung’s body before he had fully processed the meaning of his words. “Fuck.”

“That’s, right, kitten,” Yugyeom kept going. Merciless. “Can’t keep your collar if you’re misbehaving, can you?”

“Why–why are you so fucking good at this, _God–”_

“Shhhhh, kitten,” whispered Yugyeom. Whatever he was seeing on Jinyoung’s face, it was spurring him on. “You don’t need to talk, pets don’t need to talk.”

A shudder racked Jinyoung’s body, all the way from the skin under his collar to the tips of his fingers. He saw nothing, blinded by how much those words were affecting, by how much he wanted to obey. 

“Yugyeom– _fuck,_ let me–”

Yugyeom’s hands felt big, warm, overwhelming as he ran his fingers from his chest to his stomach, light and airy and leaving a trail of goosebump-pocked skin behind them. He pushed Jinyoung backwards softly, gently denying what he wanted the most, until he was sitting on his heels and shrinking under his gaze. 

The silence that stretched between them didn’t last long. It never did, really, as Yugyeom was always ready to fill it with his gasps and his words. 

“But you’re gonna behave, right, pet?” His hands sneaked lower, and lower, teasingly close to where Jinyoung wanted him the most. “You’re gonna be good for me?”

Jinyoung did whine at that, long and pained. “Please,” he gasped, elongating the last syllable until it was an incoherent plea. “Please, touch me, please, fuck–”

Two lone fingers wrapped themselves around Jinyoung’s cock, and he bucked into them with a gasp. It was immediately too much, every touch multiplying until it reverberated in every limb, but even through the flare of arousal he could still hear Yugyeom’s voice. 

“Easy, pet,” he murmured. He tightened his fingers a fraction, refusing to do more just yet. “Have you forgotten your place already?”

Jinyoung’s cock was a white-hot rod of sensation, tethered to Earth by a single point of contact. He tasted a constant moan in his throat, and his back arched toward the feeling, begging for more. 

“Cute,” whispered Yugyeom. He added another finger, and another, until he was holding his cock properly in his hand. “Such a cute kitten.”

Jinyoung could feel the sheets crumpling between his fingers, just like he could feel the burn in his thighs from the awkward position he was in. The sounds that left his mouth were whimpers now, as he forced himself to stay still. 

Yugyeom’s free hand found its way to the back of his neck, grabbing onto the collar with just enough strength to be noticeable. He added some pressure to his grip, and Jinyoung choked in his own gasp. 

“Fuck, please, more, pleas–e,” he begged. There was nothing around him, nothing but Yugyeom’s hands and the sweat that slid in ticklish droplets down his back, and the need for _more_ that burned in the pit of his stomach. His hips jerked forward, and he was suddenly aware of just how easily he could come any moment now. 

“Are you close, pet?” Yugyeom always knew, somehow. 

Jinyoung moaned through his teeth. “Just a bit more, please, fuck.”

The pressure seemed to be growing, both around his cock and around his neck. It was not enough to choke him, but the reminder of just how thoroughly he was being held made him lightheaded all the same. 

Yugyeom hummed. His hand slid an inch upwards and went back down, the friction still dry but almost enough for Jinyoung to lose it. 

“Fuck.”

“More?”

“Fucking–God, yes, yes, _more.”_

Another tiny jerk, and another. Jinyoung’s eyes had closed of their own accord at some point, and all he saw were stars swirling around him. 

“Go on, then.” Yugyeom kept going. His voice never lost that giddy edge that was always there when he got like this, when he reduced Jinyoung to a trembling mess. “Tell me when you’re ready to come, pet.”

It was too much, packed in the tiniest space, enough to hurt. The direct command piled on top of everything else, and it was the final straw that pushed Jinyoung tumbling down the edge. Time seemed to stop for a fraction of a second.

“I’m–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna–”

And then Yugyeom hummed again, sounding entirely too pleased, and the pressure disappeared completely. The whiplash ripped a cry from Jinyoung’s throat, going from a tight ring of heat to a cold nothingness, and oh, fuck, it _hurt._

Everything condensed into a single point of light. He was coming, he was distantly aware of a weak dribble of come sliding down his cock, but it was not fucking _enough._

“Yugyeom, _God_ ,” he begged helplessly. 

He had the audacity to shush him. “You’re doing great, kitten,” he said, and Jinyoung hated how reassuring he sounded and how much it worked on him. “Good pets get rewards, right? Have you been a good pet for me?”

Jinyoung gasped in a gulp of air. It was like getting a glimpse of heaven and having to settle for purgatory, stuck in the limbo of painful but still not satisfying enough, and the awareness of how close he’d been was almost as heavy as the leather around his neck. 

Yugyeom held him through it, pressing his hands further into the mattress so he wouldn’t try to touch himself for relief. Jinyoung was in too deep to actually process his words, but he heard _good pet,_ and he heard _doing so well,_ and that’s all he needed. No matter how much his ruined orgasm ached, that’s all he needed. 

In a final effort he dared to open his eyes, and saw Yugyeom smiling down on him. A last drop of come slid down his cock, still hard, before exhaustion took hold of his body. 

* * *

“You wanna take it out?”

Jinyoung’s tongue felt strange as it tried to shape sounds into words. “Hm?”

“The collar.”

The presence of it had faded to the back of Jinyoung’s mind–it was still _there,_ pressing down whenever he thought about it, but it had smoothed until it practically felt like part of his own body. 

“I like it,” he mumbled. He lifted a hand to touch it, the movement feeling sluggish and slow in the low light of the room. Soon enough he’d have to either get a blanket or actually get off his ass and shower, but he allowed himself a moment to stay close to Yugyeom and breathe. 

“I’m glad! I was… kinda nervous, actually.”

Jinyoung looked up and caught his gaze with his own. “Nerd.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!”

The leather felt warm under his fingers, as his body heat had finally bled into it completely. It felt grounding, in a way. Safe.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this whole pet thing you got going on, though,” he replied, trying to regain lost terrain.

Yugyeom didn’t budge an inch. “Me? I’m the one with a _thing?”_ he snorted. “Anytime, kitten.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jinyoung’s face felt hot, but he didn’t shy away from the feeling. A pleasant fuzziness threatened to envelop him any second. The room had been cold with the morning dew when they’d walked in, but they didn’t feel it at all. 

“Thank you,” he whispered after a moment. The syrupy sweetness of the moment lapped at his chin and threatened to drown him. “Better than a dildo, definitely.”

Yugyeom exaggerated a long sigh for effect before dissolving into giggles. “When was your birthday again?”

“Shit, you wouldn’t dare!”

Yugyeom was laughing too hard to answer, and the sound was like crystal twinkling in Jinyoung’s ears. 

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in wip limbo since christmas,,,,,,, enjoy


End file.
